


Your Turn's Over

by lilith_wnchstr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction, Angelic Grace Kink (Supernatural), Angst, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, One Shot, Self-Harm, Suicidal Dean Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilith_wnchstr/pseuds/lilith_wnchstr
Summary: This is a very very dark oneshot where Dean is addicted to Cas' grace.It escalated a lot and if you're triggered by self-harm please don't read this.Also I suck at summaries.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	Your Turn's Over

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is the darkest thing I've ever written. Do NOT read it if you're triggered by self-harm.
> 
> Thanks to my cousin and my friend for betaing this.
> 
> Enjoy!!

He knows this is bad. Really bad. He knows that hurting himself will never give him the real thing he wants, _craves_.

But he can't stop. That high, that bliss everytime Cas' grace floods through him...

It had started innocently enough. Dean had been cooking, looked away for a second and cut his finger. It hadn't been a big cut, surely wouldn't even have left a scar, but Cas had healed him nonetheless.

That's the first time he remembers that grace filling him to the brim, making him feel clean and pure for the first time since he'd made that deal all those years ago. Every life he hasn't been able to save, every soul tortured in hell, everything gone, wiped out in a knife sharp heat.

Ever since then he's been chasing that feeling, hurting himself in increasingly painful ways just so Cas would heal him.

Once in a while he wonders what Cas would think if he knew what Dean did after. How he got off on it, hard, fast, trying to remember the feeling of grace burning through his veins.

The creeping shame comes afterwards, when he lies in bed, exhausted, guilt mixing with anger. And everytime he tells himself that this is it, this is the last time he'll sink that low, the last time he'll use his friend, that he'd stop.

He knows he's lying everytime.

The weeks have started blurring together, Dean is living on autopilot, moving from hunt to hunt, barely a moment of rest. Sam is worried about him, he knows, asking again and again why he's suddenly so focused on hunting when barely two months ago he'd been ready to retire.

And Dean wishes he knew, wishes he knew why he can't stop wanting the pain to last just a little longer, the burn of grace following it to burn just a little hotter, wants to know what the fuck is wrong with him.

So he stops jumping from hunt to hunt without resting, tries to get by without pain and heat and it works.

Or at least that's what he tells himself, tells anyone who asks. But deep down Dean knows he needs it.

***

He should have known it would go sideways someday. That he'll end up more hurt than planned or that Cas can't get to him in time.

And that's just what happens. During the last months he's worked out a fairly good routine. He lets himself be thrown around some more, lets his guard down, reacts just a second too late. It has been working well so far, a few broken ribs, a lot of bruises, a concussion that one time...

A pierced lung is something entirely unfamiliar.

_Stupid. Disgusting. You're getting off on a man. Fag. And now you're dying. Because you're addicted to him. Good job, Dean. Really would have made good ol' dad proud._

This shoots through his head while he lies there in the dirt, the silence only disturbed by his gurgling breaths as he waits for Death to take him. Because that's what will happen. He's told nobody about this hunt, was sure he would make it out alive. Two vampires are no match for Dean Winchester after all. Turns out a rebar is.

He'd killed one when the other had decided Dean needed an extra hole in his back and slammed him into a rebar sticking out from a wooden beam.

Then he had taken off, leaving Dean to die.

He'd pulled himself off, tried to walk to the car, to his phone, but his legs had given out about two steps from where he'd started.

For the first time in a long while he is genuinely afraid.

He lies there for a little longer, thinking about how this is how he'll die, impaled by a fucking piece of metal, how the other hunters will think of him, how Sam will think of him, how _Cas_ will think of him.

And then he remembers. He remembers that praying to Cas is an option.

A few minutes later there's the by now familiar wooshing of wings and he's being healed, pumped full of that wonderful, scorching heat and his mind is clear and silent and finally he's not evil anymore, he's _good_ again.

Cas flies them to the bunker.

Sam yells at him how he could be so stupid and storms out the door. Probably to go see Eileen. She's good for him. He's good for her. Dean's sure they'll marry someday.

When they're alone Cas yells at him and Dean yells back, pushes him against a wall and Dean's _angry_ and he pushes and shoves when he wants to _pull_ and then Cas shakes his head, letting it fall forwards disappointedly.

"You don't understand, do you?"

It's silent and broken and Dean wants to pull him close, wipe the tears away and never let go.

But since when does he get what he wants.

So he backs off, watches Cas leave with every fibre of his being screaming _stay_.

He jerks off in his room after.

***

Cas doesn't come back.

_You should be proud of yourself. You've managed to drive away the one person you thought cared about you. Well done, Dean. Why don't you just leave Sam, too? He seems miserable enough in your company. Or better, why don't you leave this world? Surely one fuckup less wouldn't be bad._

And he wants to, he stands there often enough, gun in his hand, on his temple, but he can't. Because he's _weak._ Doesn't even have the guts to off himself.

So he turns to the next best alternative.

The first time the knife breaks his skin is exhilarating. It's sharp and painful and perfect. It's as close to grace as he's gonna get. Because face it, Cas isn't coming back.

Weeks continue like this, he experiments with fire, burns himself, tries different blades, carves designs into his arms. There's a weird kind of beauty to it, morbid and bloody and raw. It's like purgatory in a way.

But it's not enough. It stills the burning desire, but never for long, never _enough._

When Sam finds out he's furious. He shouts and hides every weapon he can find, every knife, every gun, hell, even his razor.

He wants to talk, says he's worried.

Dean smuggles a shard of glass to his room after he breaks a bottle. It's not as good as the knives but it'll have to do.

But then he cuts too deep and there's so much blood and he's dizzy and he _regrets._

He knows he wants to live.

Maybe he's the lowest he's ever been, maybe he's a fucked up queer, addicted to angelic grace and pain. But damnit he wants to live.

So he shouts for Sam and he's there and then there's Cas and the world is spinning and they're both fuzzy and they're talking but he can't hear it and then it's so dark. He's floating, it's soft and warm and he wants to stay like this forever.

***

When he wakes up there's a hand in his, someone sitting beside his bed.

He tightens his grip before falling back into the darkness again. Shortly wondering who cares enough about him to stay by his side.

The next time he wakes to voices. They're too loud and it's too bright and he wants to go back to the silent floating. The hand is gone.

He groans and opens his eyes.

Sam and Cas are staring at him, relief obvious on their faces.

Sam says something to Cas and leaves.

Dean expects shouting and anger, not soft looks and his face being cradled by calloused hands.

"Dean. You could have told me. Why didn't you tell me? Dean, I would have been there for you. You know I would have. But if you don't trust me anymore that's okay. I'm sorry if I did something to give you a reason to distrust me. I'm sorry I failed you."

He doesn't expect to tear up, sobs and apologies falling from his lips.

And suddenly he's hugging Cas and they're both shaking and there's tears on their faces and maybe, just maybe he'll get better. Maybe he'll make it like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr, it's the same name as here😊


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